Walking
by Miandrethal
Summary: I just love Trowa angst. This is the first of a short story arc entitled the Mobility Arc. If you like, good stuff to come. Please R


Author's Note: I know that I put this on my site then deleted it and now it's back again, but I really like it. I like it so much in fact that I'm going to make a whole story arc out of it entitled (and this is a working title) the Mobility Arc. This is the first installment the next will be called Running and will include some longer chapters. However, I still think this can stand a lone as a one-shot and is among one of my favorites that I've ever written.

"WALKING"

It was a spring day in April when I went to see you. The milky clouds floating over me as I briskly walked to your door. I knew that this was wrong, my intentions not of the highest, but I had to tell you. I remember from our first meeting, the way your chocolate locks fell to your shoulders, your dark skin contrasted the cream-colored suit you wore. You were beautiful that day, as I am sure you will be tomorrow.

I make my way to the large house, the two stone lions guarding you and protecting you from people like me. I should feel guilty about the way I feel about you; those simple feelings that arose that day I saw you were almost unbelievable. That day I realized that I wanted and needed only you; that I wanted to see you waking up next to me every morning. From that moment on, I loved you.

I stand in front of your door, the red, hard wood, the only thing blocking me from your smiling face. How is it possible that I have come this far? Tomorrow you will belong to another, but today, I must let you know. I straighten my Preventer uniform and run a nervous hand through my hair, trying to look my best for you. I shakily ring the doorbell, dreading the thought that _he_ might answer it; dreading the thought that you will too. I suddenly feel panicked, a wave of alarm washing over my soul as I stand silently at your door. Why am I doing this? This is truly wrong and my heart knows it. I get it in my mind to retreat and I begin to hastily make my escape. I am halfway down the stone steps when I hear the door open.

"Trowa?" your melodious tone rings out to me. I stop, turning to look at you. The sight is amazing. You are in the same cream-colored suit you wore the day we met. My eyes close just so that I can remember that day briefly.

"Trowa, what are you doing here?" you ask, walking from the threshold to the top of the stairs. I slowly ascend the stairs, grabbing you by your caramel-brown hand.

"Let's go for a walk." I say, taking complete ownership of you and pulling you with me down the stairs. You struggle against me, not allowing me to take you any further. You pull away.

"Trowa, I have a wedding in the morning, I have no time for this." Your tone is sharp, but it excites me. I grab you once again by your hand, memorizing the warmth of the fingers and the smoothness of the skin.

"Let's go for a walk." Is all I say. Your countenance softens a bit, but you stand firm and grab your hand away from me again.

"Trowa, this is crazy. I'm too busy." You say, ascending the stairs backwards, your face still towards me. I grab your hand again. You do not resist.

"Let's go for a walk." I say, and you let me carry you away towards the luminous, blossoming neighborhood that you reside in. 

We walk for forever, the silence still. The wind rustling your hair, it looks like a chocolate cascade. You say nothing and I say nothing. This reminds me of the wonderful silence that we had when I guarded you. The way I just sat in your office and the only sounds between us were your hurried typing. That's when it happened. That's when I slowly started to fall in love with you, when I slowly started to find myself in your eyes. I noticed the small things that _he _never would. The way your head tilted to the side when you were confused. The way you paced when you were on the vid-phone. The way you chewed on your bottom lip when in deep thought. How I wished that I were your lip. I watched you then, more closely than any bodyguard should, falling in love with you more everyday. But you fell in love with _him_ and now I'm sure that if I'd said something, you would have loved me instead. You would be marrying me tomorrow.

I watch you now, as your head is lowered, examining your feet as they step one in front of the other. You are breathtaking; I don't think I could ever take my eyes off of you.

"Trowa, what do you want?" 

"I wanted to take a walk. Like we used to Roddy." I say, my voice no higher than a whisper. You look shocked at my answer, your stunning hazel eyes, darkening and changing in their color.

"Trowa, I have no time." You say, looking back over the path that we trod. You can see the red roof of the house in the distance and I can tell that you're wondering how we got so far without saying a word. Can you feel it too? The unspoken communication between us the mental connection that binds us together and the twinge in your heart that says you miss it. You've stopped, not wanting us to go any farther, yet I keep walking taking slow paces as not to leave you. You quickly catch up with me in step with my slow pace, right next to me.

We finally make it to the place that I picked out to tell you. It is a clearing in the secluded neighborhood. I look around and the scene is perfect, I know that it is not lost on you. There is no one around for miles, and large hedges and trees cover the spot. You are taking it all in, I can see in your eyes that you know what is going to happen. I stop and take your hand in mine.

"Trowa, what is the meaning of this?" you asked. You are full of questions today. I am silent until you turn your attention away from the scenery and splendor of the day. Your eyes meet mine; they are unreadable.

"I love you." I say, letting the words hang. What more can be said? I can't say anything and you look stunned. Your eyes are readable now, questions and confusion running in the back of them. Anger firing in them, then frustration. But there is something missing, something in your eyes that I'm looking for and not finding. Compassion? Understanding? They are not there. You pull away from me, turning your back to walk the opposite way to your home. Then you stop. You turn to me, fist clenched at your side and your eyes flaring with a golden fire that I've never seen in you.

"What would you have me do?" you ask. I have no answer for you, but I do.

"Marry me instead of him." My voice is monotone, betraying the amount of feelings that went into that comment. I walk closer to you. I am slow so that you won't run from me, but confident in my stride.

"Trowa, it's not that easy. I love Quatre, I'm marrying him tomorrow." Those words sound rehearsed, almost like you've thought of us many times before. I take a step closer, I know you notice my closeness to you, but you do not retreat. You only stand tall and firm in your spot, owning it, protecting it like a tiger protects its cubs.

"Does he make you happy?" I ask. Why can't my voice sound differently? Why can't it convey the love and emotions that are flowing through my mind? Why can't I be as eloquent with you vocally as I am mentally? If I were, I wouldn't be doing this now. My slow steps draw me nearer to you, until I get a close up view of your hazel eyes. I didn't know they had gold flecks in them, I didn't know that your chocolate locks had a streak of auburn in them. I didn't know that you had a mole on your forehead. Or did I? Does Quatre know that?

"Yes." Your answer crushes me. The words and tone are confident and I am unaware that I am shaking from the answer. I bend down, pulling your chin into a kiss. Never had I expected it to feel this way. You do not pull away from me, yet you do not respond either. I release your lips, the pain of breaking almost too much for me to bear.

"Are you sure?" I ask again. You reach up to my cheek and I suddenly feel moisture sliding down it. I was crying.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Your tone is still strong as you wipe another stray tear away from my cheek.

"I have never been good with words." I say. I wasn't good with words now. You look at me, your face still contorted in confusion.

"Nor timing for that matter." Your wit. I always did love your wit. You start moving back towards the house, the silence thick, choking both of us. We need to speak; we need to get this out in the open. I kiss you again. This time you respond. This is wrong, a guilty pleasure that I am indulging in. I know my sins and I am condemned to hell, not caring one bit. You pull away.

"Did you like that?" I ask. My body is shaking from nervousness. You say nothing, but you nod your head and keep walking towards the house.

"He'll be home in an hour." You don't stop moving, your pace a bit faster than when this walk began.

"Don't marry him. Mary me." I say again, hoping that this repetition will take affect of your brain somehow. You stop at those words, but you have softened and now I see the compassion and the understanding in your eyes that I yearn for.

"Why Trowa? Why should I marry you instead of him?" you ask. I am surprised by the question. I have to talk. I have to tell you how I feel. I have to let my emotions run free. I'm terrified.

"Love." One word sums up my feelings. You look at me; I can see the tears forming in your eyes. The hazel orbs becoming cloudy with the salty substance. Yet, you fight them back, I can see the knot that you swallow in your throat as you prepare to speak.

"You're too late, Trowa." You say, your face as stoic as mine usually is. I will not cry. I cannot. You are right. I have no claim to your heart. I look at you, the sun illuminating the russet skin, the gold flecks shining brightly in the hazel eyes. I take you in for a second, silently staring at you. You stare back, not faltering under my inspection. The breeze blows as we stand less than a foot from each other and I can feel a bittersweet tear fall from my eye, down my cheek and drop to the ground. A clown can cry. The birds are chirping sweetly, their merry song for you and your future husband; not chirping for us. I should let you go.

"I know." I do know. I knew I was too late when Quatre first said he liked you. I knew I was too late when my heart pounded with every sensation, every emotion when I was around you. I knew I was too late when I woke up this morning, when I drove down to your house, when I knocked on your door. I knew it was too late when I saw you standing on your porch, when I asked you to walk with me, when I kissed you. It was always too late. **I** was always too late. 

"I need to get back." You say, and I walk you back towards the house, the little red roof showing in the distance. The sun is quickly setting and I wouldn't want for you to be out here alone. We silently head back, not looking into each other's eyes, not having to. We reach your doorstep, with the same idea in mind of not knowing how we made it so quickly back. I notice that _his_ car is in the driveway as we walk up the stony path. I stop halfway, so that I am concealed from the window.

"Why don't you come in, Trowa? Quatre would love to see you," you say, a smile showing on your face for the first time today. I shake my head and you slowly begin to turn around. I stop you with a hand on your arm and kiss you once again. You allow me this last pleasure. We break and you turn and walk away, not looking into my eyes.

"Roddy?" I say, hoarse from the emotions that pass through my mind. You stop, a silent bidding that I go on.

"Marry me instead of him." I ask just one last time, hoping the answer will change. We stand in the silence, our eyes meeting one last time. I can see it, the compassion, the understanding, and something else. You blink and it disappears…

"I can't." you say.

"I love you." I say again, making sure you know. You smile at me just a little.

"I know." You turn and walk back into the house. I can see you walk to him from the window. I walk away down the stairs; down the stony path and down the trail we just walked. You are not with me any longer. I stop and look back at the large house with the red roof and see you staring out at me from a window. You smile and even from out here I see the hazel eyes filled with compassion, understanding and… love. I was too late. 


End file.
